


Battle Song

by Abby_Ebon



Category: Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_Ebon/pseuds/Abby_Ebon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-Valdemar. The history of the Need a magical sword, holder of the soul of a mage-smith, is shrouded in mystery. This is one of those, how Need and a Firecat helped a street-rat called Brat became someone most familiar to Hawkbrother and Shin'a'in; Warriar, Mother, Crone - the Star-Eyed - as Kalar of Karse once said, the Sun Lord once had a female companion - lost to history. This is the orgin tale of the Star-Eyed, which I've always wondered at.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sword and The Cat

_She is bleeding. Blood pools around her, seeps into the dry earth, and the muddy blood presses against her nose and mouth, slowly smothering her. It surrounds her on all sides- all of it hers._

_She is Nëd._

_She is too weak to move her head the little ways needed to not drown in her own blood. There is too much of it- and she knows with a sense of serenity that she is to die here. The only question is which turn death will take- drowning in her muddy blood, or from the savage wounds._

_Her salvation is mere inches from her, if she could only reach it. The elegant steel blade forged with pure magic, and the black hilt- a blue stone mounted on the top. It is her only chance, yet she is too weak, too tired, to reach for it._

_Too tired of life, tired of death, her lips- half coated in bloody mud, twitch into a grim smile her teeth bared, a smile one wares into a battle they know can't win. Or if they don't care if they do or not, so long as they have done what is needed._

_She slows her breathing- meditating, and opening herself to any power that could strengthen her to move those last few inches._

_After all…she may be tired, but she will not give up without a fight._

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

 _-That dream again. –_ A girl thinks as she startles awake from the vivid nightmare, she has no name; other then Brat, she presses her lips but a sorrowful whimper escapes, tears threaten, and heart-sick, she calls out silently to the one being she trusts- a cat.

Brat is an orphan, perhaps ten, and to guess fifteen would be pushing it. Being a street-rat, and orphan, is all she has ever known. She is worthless in the eyes of her people, and she knows it. Even the beggars look down on the orphans, and they were no better off. Save that beggars knew something of their families. Most orphans do not.

In this place, of dust and priests, family is everything. So they say the Sun Lord decrees. An orphan is told never to look fro kindness from the Sun God, priests, or the guards, and for the most part this advice has served Brat well.

The cat appeared, arriving in its usual manner- out of nowhere. A soft purr hummed in her ears; the cat, in her mind, is the most beautiful creature _ever_ seen in her world of streets and thieves.

A golden mask of fur covered the cats face, and startlingly intelligent blue eyes, that saw everything, peered up at her. The cat's long coat was white, save for all four of its dainty paws and fluffy tail- all of which was as golden as the sun.

The cat is her truest, and loyalist, friend. For, whenever she is troubled it would appear, sometimes even without Brat 'calling' for it! The cat curled around her legs, unreadable blue eyes stared up at her, Brat smiled softly, an expression she only let the cat see, and reached out a cautious hand to pet it.

It accepted the affection offered, and met her hand daringly as she scratched its ears, the purr growing louder.

The cat stepped lightly onto her lap, for such a large cat, Brat hardly noticed its weight. Brat rewards it with a scrap of dried-and-salted meat, and doing so, and petting the soft fur gives Brat a sense of calm, a peace an orphan rarely gets on the streets.

"Ah'll be alright, it was just…the dream, again…" Brat murmurs softly to the cat, at the urgings of foreign feelings to do so. Sometimes, when times were particularly hard, Brat felt that the feline _wanted_ to know what troubled her.

Which was a silly notion, but it comforted her, to think that something cared about her when she felt helpless. As if to comfort her, the cat rubbed its face against Brat's chin, and Brat giggled, scratching the feline behind its ears.

After licking her chin, the cat curled up into a ball in Brat's lap, content, for now, to be petted.

The ruffle of leather boots was heard, and metal-soled boots clicked on the street after. It sounded as if they were right outside her hide away, between two buildings in an alley. Only she could fit into it, for she was the smallest person she knew. It wasn't comfortable- but it was safe, and that was what was most important to her.

Cat and girl tensed; no beggar (they wore straw-sandals) or orphan (who wore nothing, or rags wrapped around their feet in winter- which it wasn't) wore shoes made out of leather or metal.

Brat had to be careful, patrols came regularly, and the patrols took the beggars and other orphans away. No one knew to _where_ they went after the patrols took them. Some said that those people were lucky- they were trained to become useful, to be soldiers, or priests, maybe they even learned a craft. Brat didn't believe those rumors.

Unnoticed to Brat (who was too busy trying to be silent, _unnoticeable_ and to control the rate of her breathing) one of the cat's beautiful blue eyes opened, and the air seemed to shimmer for a moment, then Sheba calmly closed her eyes.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Leather-boots had spun around to face metal-soles, so Brat assumed that was who had spoken; leather-boots had a softly foreign, _feminine_ voice, which surprised Brat, few foreigners came to her town- it was well inside the Sun God's dominion.

Metal-soles laughed, and Brat heard the thump of a body hitting the dirt- and the cry of one who knew they were about to die. Then someone with metal-soled boots ran away. Metal-soled boots were expensive, and Brat shook with fear long after the sounds had faded.

The knowledge that there was a body outside her shelter finally drove away the fear.

Bodies for a street-rat meant free stuff, and newly-dead or not, survival was more important then respecting the dead. The dead didn't need the things that they had had in life. Or so Brat told herself, as she slid between the walls- and emerged, blinking a few more times then was needed, as she stood in the bright sun light.

The body was, indeed, both female and foreign, she was dressed in armor which was stranger still for a foreign woman- and a sword lay on the ground a few feet away from her. Brat sighed, she couldn't use the armor- there would be too many questions if she tried to sell it, and the sword looked… _familiar_.

None the less she searched the body. The woman didn't have any valuables, no money, and no food- so the owner of the metal-soled boots hadn't wanted those things. What else was there? Brat didn't know, and rich people often behaved strangely. Brat shrugged it off, and went to the sword- there was a blue stone on the black hilt, it _might_ be valuable.

Brat reached for the sword, her small grimy hands covering the hilt, a voice echoed in her mind.

: _A bit young to be a warrior or mage, aren't you? But there is the promise of both in you…something rare indeed… and there is no one else, so you'll do little one._ : Brat tensed all over, no one had spoken, because no one was around (she had made sure of _that_ before she'd left her hide away). The 'voice' was _female_ , and conveyed a sense of being _old_ , even if it was grating like hard steel on old armor. Yet Brat knew it had come from her mind, but it wasn't _her_.

: _I am Need, and I am the sword, child. If there is a woman in need near you, we will answer that need. I will help you. Do you understand?_ : The cat meowed softly, as if questioning why Brat was just standing there, and then it caught sight of the sword, glared at it harshly, and hissed at it.

Oddly Brat _understood_ the sword. She would help those women in need, with no other payment then a job well done. Need would help her alive as best as it could, but not even the sword could save its last barer.

Brat swallowed, and Need felt her nervousness, and taking pity on her, sent Brat feelings of calm. : _We shall start with something easy…_ : Need reassured her, and Brat felt the sword cast itself outward, supposedly searching for a woman in need. Brat waited, tense, and breathless, knowing that _something_ in her life had shifted. She was no longer _just_ a street-rat and orphan; she was something else, someone with a destiny…a purpose…

Someone useful…

Brat didn't know it, but as she stood waiting and breathless, Sword and Cat argued.

: _You meddle in Fate. You meddle in a God's Plan. She is Ours, and I protect her._ : The feline 'said' harshly, to the artifact of foreign-magic. To her disgust the blade snorted back a laugh in the mental link.

: _She doesn't see you for what you are. If you told her the Fate you and Yours will for her, she'd choose my path._ : Need told the cat smugly, she had searched through her bearer's memories, and knew the child better then anyone could claim to.

: _She is young yet. She knows not what you ask of her. She is Ours- chose another woman. There are plenty here, others who are not God-touched. Let her be!_ : The cat hissed again at the sword, hastily following her charge as the sword made her leave the alley.

: _She is mine now. You and Yours will have her back when she is ready._ : Need told the cat, as she guided the girl-child to a well in the edge of town. Where a little girl had tried three times to get water, and had failed each time.

Fearing to go home empty handed, she had exhausted her self, and was in need. Not a need dire, but a need all the same, _that,_ Need felt, her charge could answer.

: _Then I will follow, to ensure her safety._ : The cat told the sword, watching as her charge brought water out of the well for another girl. The cat felt the sword's silent approval, of its charges deed, and growled to itself.


	2. Suzy and Her Mama

"I can't thank you enough!" The little girl exclaimed as a stranger, with poorer clothes then herself. Helped her bring up well water her Mama needed, for the cooking at the inn, that was her home.

"Wasn't anythin' 'pecial." The street-rat said softly, it was easy to tell she didn't talk much, the little girl smiled hugely up at the stranger.

"Well, water is valuable. Mama said so. Maybe we can repay you?" the little girl thought aloud.

Clearly bemused, the stranger motioned a hand for the little girl to guild her- supposedly to where the little girl needed the water to be.

Brat knew the little girl was tired, it was easy to see that much, she had nothing she had to do, so she might as well finish the job Need led her too, she felt the sword's approval and glowed with pleasure.

"So what's your name? Mine's Suzy." The little girl told Brat, as Suzy ran ahead. It was easy for Brat to keep up, and Suzy had the light brown hair of a foreigner.

Brat was suddenly embarrassed about her name, and with a glance at the sword by her side, decided that she'd call herself Nëd, after Need, though it was familiar to her, but she couldn't place where she had heard it before.

She hoped that Need would forgive her for taking up her name.

"Nëd." Brat answered after a short pause, Suzy had stopped at an inn up ahead. Brat was glad; the water bucket seemed to be getting heavier with every step she took.

"This is it! Mama! I got the water! Come see!" Suzy hollered as only a child could. Brat winched, she wasn't used to such noises, and usually they meant trouble for a street-rat like her.

A woman came out of the inn; she was pale skinned and golden haired, and big with another child. It was obvious where Suzy got her foreigners hair.

"What's this Suzy?" The woman asked cautiously, with no hint of an accent. "Her name is Nëd, she got the water today." Suzy said with a grin.

Sharp grey eyes studied Brat, searching for something, and then with a nod she took the bucket from her, Brat flinched back, expecting a hit. The woman gave her a odd look.

"Thank you, child, Suzy there are leftover's on the table. Why don't you and your friend go eat some?" The woman suggested, Brat felt suddenly self conscious, with the sword at her side, and covered in dirt, with scraps of clothes no 'proper' person would ware.

Suzy grabbed her hand, taking over, and took her to the table. A table with more food on it, then Brat had _ever_ seen in one sitting. Her stomach rumbled, and Suzy giggled, pulling out a chair for Brat, then seating herself as well.

"Help yourself!" Suzy exclaimed, pleased by Brat's awe-struck expression. Brat did so, setting the sword gently onto the wooden floor, and digging into the food with gusto.

Soon she was full, and Suzy's Mama ordered them both to wash up with damp rags, and then to bed.

Brat had always kept herself clean, usually by sneaking into the temple pools once a week, sometimes at the cat's insistence. But Brat wasn't about to tell Suzy, or her mom, that.

Brat slept with Need beside her, and settled into a deep sleep, wondering at Suzy and her Mama's kindness.

The cat's blue eyes watched her through the window.

The next day dawned bright, and Brat stretched, enjoying the warmth of the sun upon her skin, and yet finding it wrong some how. Then she remembered, and gripping the sword went into the kitchen, where Suzy was eating breakfast, and waved her over.

It was bisects and gravy, with dried fruit and meat, with water to wash it down. It was a small breakfast, but big by Brat's standards, Brat was lucky if she ate once a day…

Suzy was filled with questions this morning. _She'd probably dreamed them up,_ Brat thought amusement and annoyance warring within her.

"Why do you carry that sword around?" Suzy asked with a pointed look at Need.

"It's special is all." Brat answered absentmindedly, munching on a bit of dried meat.

"Does it have a name?" Suzy asked, abandoning her dried fruit (no surprise there, Brat didn't care for it either) in favor of questioning her new-found friend further.

"Need…" Brat answered, hoping the girl wouldn't notice the similarities…too late…

"Oh! That's like your name isn't it? Did you name it after you?" Suzy questioned intently, her little nose scrunched up cutely.

"Something like that…" Brat said, holding in her laughter at Suzy's expression.

"You don't talk much do you?" Suzy told her, pouting at Brat, and making her feel like she'd just stolen the girls new doll.

"Suppose not." Brat said, not liking the feeling and hoping Suzy would stop asking questions- to no avail.

"Why?" Suzy asked, sounding truly puzzled. It was then Brat realized how truly innocent the girl was, and vowed to protect some of that innocence, Suzy didn't need to know her past after all.

"Not much need for it." Brat muttered drinking half the glass of water, hoping Suzy would lose interest in her questions.

"Why not?" Suzy asked when Brat had swallowed. Brat took her time answering, she needed to be careful, and she was treading on hot sand and fire coals.

"I live alone." Brat finally said, deciding it was a safe answer.

"Oh. Where do you live?" Suzy asked, pretending it wasn't important. Brat wasn't fooled, Suzy would be listening to this question the most.

"Around. What's it matter?" Brat said, deciding to ask a question of her own- it was only fair after all.

"It doesn't, you just talk sort of funny." Suzy stated, clearly disappointed with her answer.

"You talk too much." Brat stated simply, eating a biscuit while carefully not looking at Suzy. There was a pause of silence and Brat thought she might have gotten lucky- _then_ ;

"You talk too little." And Suzy stuck her tongue out playfully, and at Brat's outraged look, she got up giggling- and ran from the room. Brat tensed when she saw Suzy's Mama come in, and relaxed when she glimpsed the faint smile on her lips.

"You don't seem to have anywhere to go…I'll see to it you get three meals a day, and descent clothes, and wages, if you'll help me out around the inn. Is that alright with you?" She asked, grey eyes glinting with amusement at Brat's reaction- slack-jawed amazement.

"You'd trust me, just like that?" Brat said wonderingly. The woman gave her a gentle smile, one that made Brat blush with the trust in it.

"Just like that." The woman answered, Brat managed to stammer a "Thank you, Ma'am." -the woman laughed lightly. "Oh child, call me Mama, and your much welcome. Why don't you go draw some water from that well?" 'Mama' suggested, making shooing motions. Brat rushed to obey, a grin on her face.

Everything seemed to be changing so quickly, and so far, it was for the better too! When Brat got back to the inn, Mama made her change into proper clothes. Brat had never been more delighted. She didn't mind the dish washing (which was confusing until a laughing Suzy showed her how) and serving the customers was easy enough.


	3. Son of the Sun

When Mama found that Brat didn't know how to spell or read or write, Brat endured lessons with Suzy. In the inn Suzy helped serve during the day and mornings, and Mama and Brat at evening and nights.

The inn was simple and only had a gathering room- and five extra bedrooms, so occasionally there were Bards and Story-Tellers so the girls didn't lack for entertainment when they weren't busy.

Mama knew of Firecats, and had seen the one following Nëd -and knew the sword Nëd had wasn't _just_ a sword.

Sometimes Nëd, sword in hand, would go off without a word, and she worried, but more for the girls soul then if she got hurt. Orphans did not survive long if they did not know how to fight.

Five years passed in such a way, Nëd's birthday was celebrated on when she came to the inn, as she had confessed to now knowing it. Mama knew that Nëd would not stay with her forever, and yet it came as a surprise when she left.

Nëd was cooking, the sword leaning against the stove, and yet itself cool to the touch. It was to be the new Son of the Sun was chosen, and a hum of excitement filled the air. Since her orphan days, Ned had not lost her wariness of Sun Priests or the Sun Lord that was to change that day.

Her spine all at once tensed up, as she felt the pull of a woman in need, Nëd glanced to the sword, and turned the oven off. She knew better then to think she would be "right back" – the kinds of missions Need sent her on now were vastly different then those of five years past.

She touched the blue gem on Need's hilt, and it seemed to sing to her – the blue swelling, swirling about with in as if a pulse. Nëd smiled slightly, for she always felt right – felt as if she had a duty to do, whenever the sword felt a woman in need.

Without pause she left the inn, Mama merely raising a hand in acknowledgement as she left. Suzy waved a bit more enthusiastically – the girl was eleven now – or perhaps twelve, for though taught, Nëd had never lost the habits Brat had brought to her families door step.

Though she passed market on her way to where Need led her, she glanced only once at her reflection. Dark brown eyes greeted her, gleaming in earnest excitement, and cropped close brown hair fell barely below her ears. Many made the mistake of thinking her a boy – and she found she didn't care. Her chest was flat, being starved in youth, and finding life hard otherwise had toned her body into a weapon – and her magic, well, that she let Need control.

It was not often someone came into market with a sword so boldly showing – but no one questioned it, trusting military to deal with it. Nëd paid no attention to military – they couldn't catch her, not so long as Need was with her, and she intended never to be without the sword.

: _Climb that ladder there_.: Need suggested, it took a moment to spot it, it was along one of the buildings – Nëd found herself obeying without question. Need often pointed out things she would miss – it was why they were such a great team; she was a tool – as much as Need was one. A tool for the greater good, a tool with a purpose most orphans never thought to achieve.

She scrambled up the ladder, and paused, warily peeking her head over the top of the roof.

: _There he is – he threatens a woman._ : Need whispered to her, and though she could not see the woman in danger – she trusted Needs instincts.

Staying low, Nëd crawled onto the roof top, staying just out of the line of sight. She saw almost immediately he was a assassin – and one skilled in magic.

: _Better then you, surprise him with a physical attack – he is guarded well against a magical one_. _If there is a magical opening, I will take it_.: Need suggested, and biting her reply back from being spoken, she did as Need had wanted. She was directly behind him – if she managed to get on top of him, there was a chance she could crack his skull or snap his spine before adrenaline would lend him strength against her.

Just before she jumped, Nëd thought she saw a cat – the cat she remembered from childhood that she caught glimpses once in a while. It was as if the cat watched her – protected her.

Then she flung her weight onto the man, wrapped her forearms around his neck, and held on as he bucked and arched in hopes of throwing her off before she strangled him to death.

"Look – up on that building, an assassin!" It was easy to tell what the man was – he wore black, or dark colors, and she only light brown pants and cream top – no shoes, she had never liked them.

In one last effort he flung them off the building – Nëd couldn't help but screech as she fell. She heard the assassin yell – and the crunch of bone against ground as he met the earth. She squeezed her eyes shut sure that she was about to meet the same fate.

"Oh, Sun Lord, that poor brave soul is going to die." Nëd feared that was so, for she felt Need try to reach her, but it seemed as if her panic and fear would be her death.

: _**I do not think so; I will not loose you so easily**_. : It was muscular, musical – and her body flushed as if she had stayed out in the sun.

To her amazement – and to the crowd bellow, she found herself floating down, as if on a gentle summer wind. When her feet met the ground – she found herself the center of the crowd's attention – for she had survived the fall without a scrape – the assassin was not so lucky.

"It's a miracle, praise Vkandis, he saved the girl!"

Nëd swallowed harshly, for she noticed what she had not before. There was a carriage – drawn by men, it was decorated in the Sun Lords colors – even she, who was a mere street-rat, knew what that meant. It was the carriage of the Son of the Sun, Nëd felt herself grow chilled. Her heart beat aloud in her ears.

"Bring my rescuer to me." Demanded a voice that could not be denied, Nëd went without the prompting of soldiers, or crowd.

The woman who met her gaze wore rich clothing, though no unneeded excess. Her mere presence was enough for Nëd to know this woman was her countries religious leader.

"You are very young, but blessed by Vkandis. Come, sit with me." The woman asked, and Nëd found she could do nothing else but what was asked – or, rather, demanded. The cat that Nëd had thought she saw all her life, either in the corner of her eye, or just a flicker of tail, sat beside the woman.

"I am Lorkia, Son of the Sun. _He_ has told me of you, little hidden dagger – and what he has not said, Sheba has said plenty." The Son of the Sun told her in a husky whisper. Her hand petted the cat who regarded Nëd with familiar, if oddly intent, blue eyes. The cat was as big as a dog, standing as tall as the knee, or a little taller.

"Sheba… _He_ …I do not understand…" Nëd spoke, rather baffled, and cat and priestess seemed amused. Need seemed more annoyed, but then – sense the fall, the sword had not spoken to her. She supposed it was because the sword was angry with her for panicking so, and wished to apologize – though she could only do that when Need spoke first.

"Do not fret so; I can see that they have not told you what you should know. _He_ , of course, is the Sun Lord, Vkandis – and Sheba, well, Sheba is your firecat. She has been watching you all your life." Lorkia smiled to see Nëd surprised, the Son of the Sun had the feeling it was something rare.

"As for what I mean by hidden dagger, I believe the nobles in the army are plotting against my priests – when I preyed to Vkandis for a answer – he told me to wait, and gave me you." Lorkia continued, more sternly, for she saw that Nëd had tensed up with surprise.

"You will help me, and go into the army as an assassin, won't you?" Lorkia asked then, hopeful. For a moment Nëd saw a woman much like herself, newly introduced to a destiny where she was unsure of in.

Nëd also considered what she knew of Vkandis, he was a god of the people – her god, and if not an overly kind god, he was at least fair – giving life to their people and waiting until all those deeds had been done in life only to judge them in death.

If it had been Vkandis who had saved her…the cats blue eyes caught and held hers : _How can you think it was any other_ : the firecat, Sheba, asked her.

Then just as easily as Vkandis had saved her, he could kill her for denying his Son of the Sun.

"I… I will need to think about this." Nëd said, her grip on Need whitened her knuckles. Lorkia nodded, she likely had expected such a response – by some sign that Nëd did not see or understand, the carriage halted.

"Very well, when you make your choice, fair hidden dagger, prey to Vkandis, and I will know your answer and Sheba will likely come fetch you." Lorkia told her serenely – if she was upset at not having a quick answer, it did not show.

Nëd nodded her head in reverence and left the carriage, solemnly, it left leaving a baffled crowd behind.

"What could the Son of the Sun want with a mere girl?"

Nëd tapped her fingers along Need's hilt and it silenced the crowd until she was gone. She did not turn as they started to murmur behind her, finding a lack of peace in being this visible.

: _Brat, let me ask you something_ …: Need started, and she tilted her head dark curls framing her oval face. : _If you choose Vkandis, would you cut ties to me_ : Nëd shook her head, her heart fluttered wildly at the thought.

"No, Need, I'd never do such a thing – I have been a child, a woman, and a warrior with you by my side, you are my _friend_." Nëd exclaimed aloud, ignoring the looks in her direction or the odd comments.

: _Then, whatever your decision, you and I shall still answer the call of a woman in need_.: Need stated, as if to be sure. Nëd couldn't help her smile.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Nëd murmured more softly as she walked home, choice already made – now all that was left was to tell Mama and Suzy – and prey to Vkandis.


	4. Vkandis's Gift

Despite living all her life surrounded by the Sun Lord's people, Nëd had never prayed to him before. Not for lack of belief, merely because she had never thought herself worthy of his attention. He was the God of the people, and the Priests claimed anyone might call on his aid – but the poor were frowned upon, and Nëd had always thought that they reflected the opinion of the Sun Lord.

: _Gods are never quite what we think they are, for no teaching can encompass all that a God is_. : Need whispered to her, the jewel of blue twinkling at her knowingly.

: _Do you think he will take offence to my prayers?_ : Nëd asked, looking from the sword to the stars, and filled with a sort of wonder at what she dared think to do. Her fingers nervously fidgeted on her bare thighs, for she had worn only a large shirt to bed. Normally on the summer nights she would go without – but it did not seem proper to prayer unclothed for the first time.

: _Child, he saved you yesterday after you killed that assassin – I doubt he would find offence in anything you did for saving the Son of the Sun_.: Need assured her, seemingly amused at her question – though her answer was very firm.

: _But…the Priests…?_ : Nëd protested, remembering hearing second hand their teachings.

: _They are only human – they will not hear nor know of your prayers. They merely think to control and prioritize the Sun Lord in the mind of his people – which is not their place, and they shall be dealt with by him in the afterlife, I assure you._ : Need lectured, and Nëd wondered if she prayed quickly her answer to the Son of the Sun's request the Sun Lord would pay quite as much attention.

: _How do I begin_? : Nëd asked Need, after a somewhat awkward silence, the sword answered.

: _As if to a friend._ : Nëd sighed aloud, closed her eyes – and wondered if she looked silly.

Her nose itched.

": _I accept_.:" Nëd spoke aloud and within her own mind, directing the thought to what feeling and memories she had always associated with the Sun Lord.

: _ **Good.**_ : He praised in answer, and though she half thought she had imagined his voice while she was falling – she was in no danger now, and she still heard him. She thought she might have gasped aloud, and when she opened her eyes – her window was like a painting, but better for it shined and pulsed with life.

: **_You approve?_** : He asked her, sounding proud – like a man showing off battle scars.

"Yes…thank…thank you." She answered aloud, she felt her cheeks burn and knew she was blushing.

: _**You are welcome.**_ : Vkandis assured her warmly, it was as if he was smiling.

"Why…?" Nëd dared to ask, wondering if he would take the painted window away now that she had questioned him.

: **_It is…appropriate to show my feelings_**. : He answered, and she felt his presence recede, and did not draw him back – for, in his own way, he had answered her, and she was grateful. She found sleep easily as she lay down.

* * *

It was the day and she was expected to meet with the Sun of the Son, her stomach felt as if it was twisted in knots, fluttering in her chest. Nëd took a calming breath, telling her family had been hard - but she was sure it was the right thing to do. The painted window plane proved that to her when she had awoken with its colors painting her rooms. There was nothing else like it. She had carefully taken it out of the frame and wrapped it in cloth and packed it. It would be given to the Son of the Sun for safe keeping.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the cat that had been watching her since she made her decision last night give one last smug look to Need, turn, and flicker out of sight. She knew it to be a firecat - for it was as tall as her knee.

Nëd heard the door then open, but ignored it – knowing it was Mama.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do Nëd?" Mama asked in a concerned tone as she watched the girl who she had long thought of a daughter pack away her few belongings – clothes, a bedroll, and the sword into and onto a pack.

"Yes, Mama – I am sure. When I fell off that roof – there was this presence, I think it to be the Sun Lord Vkandis." Nëd said assured of her path as she turned to meet Mama's eyes. She smiled, and a ghost of a smile echoed back.

"Well, I shall not stand in the way of Vkandis' will. Just…be careful." Mama begged and Nëd hugged her reassuringly.

"I shall. I promise." Nëd assured her, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and baking bread.

"Good girl, now go see to Suzy." Mama ordered, and Nëd nodded, swinging her pack over her shoulder, her sword in a belt and scabbard. Nëd crossed the hall to the room across from hers. She knocked twice, but the door swung open – seemingly of its own accord, revealing Suzy – her face splotchy from crying and blond hair in fuzzy disarray.

"Suzy…" Nëd murmured haltingly, but it was enough to get her adopted sisters attention. Suzy sniffed, and looked up to see her, her eyes widening – then narrowing.

"Come to say good-bye?" Suzy asked scathingly, crossing her arms childishly and staring at the wooden floor.

"Yes. I…I will see you again, I do promise you that." Nëd said awkwardly, coming forward to sit beside her on the bed. Suzy glanced to her, hands knotted in a damp handkerchief.

"Most don't survive being in the Sun Lord's Army." Suzy whispered, so soft Nëd nearly did not hear.

"I will." Nëd sounded far more confident then she thought she felt. It was then a small hawk – barely a fledgling, flew down from the rafters to land on Suzy's leather padded shoulders. Nëd knew Suzy had a soft spot for the animal, and was working on making leather gloves – thicker, she claimed, then the ones the Army had.

"How can you be sure?" Suzy asked as she raised her hand to stoke the soft feathers of the little hawk.

"Do you need me to live?" Nëd asked then, knowing it would at least get a reaction that wasn't sorrow. She did not want Suzy to cry.

"Why would you ever ask such a stupid question? Of course I need –want – you to live!" Suzy exclaimed, practically spitting the words in her anger. Nëd smiled a little, and Suzy flushed, embarrassed when a call from the street asked if she was alright. The hawk screamed, and the nosy – if concerned – neighbor knew all was well. Suzy's little hawk was famous for keeping Suzy safe. It had once attacked a man who had tried to steal their money while Mama and Nëd had been to the market and on a quest for Need respectively.

"Then my sword, who answers woman in need, will see I do not die." Nëd stated, smiling slightly when Suzy's eyes sparkled in understanding.

"The Son of the Sun is a woman – and she needs you to live too. So is Mama, so Need can't falter!" Suzy exclaimed, and while she was normally disapproving of Need, she now looked down at the sword fondly.

"I'm glad you see my reasoning." Nëd stated, and Suzy stuck her tongue out for Nëd's smugness. Then she fell against Nëd's chest- the hawk shrieking once and jerking away to fly to the rafters, as Suzy hugged her as hard as she could, her warm breath stirring the small hairs along Nëd's neck.

"Love you, Nëd – come back safe." Suzy whispered, and Nëd said nothing, hugging her adopted sister in turn until Suzy pulled away.

"Love you too Suzy – take care of Mama and the inn…and that little nuisance." Nëd stumbled over her words until the hawk let out another shrill screech, and the last part was said firmly with a sneer and glare at the smug little fledgling hawk.

"You have your Need, Nëd – I have my hawk. I'll try to train her to fly messages to you from us." Suzy stated, the last part said in a rush, as it was obvious the idea had not occurred to her until just then. Nëd rolled her eyes when the fledgling chirped, either in agreement, or protest. Personally, Nëd thought the little hawk too smart for its own good, for it seemed to understand every word said. But if anyone could get it to deliver messages willingly and loyally, it would be Suzy.

"If you manage it; do tell the Son of the Sun, would you?" Nëd asked the younger girl gently, she kicked her feet in protest, but eventually – with much reluctance – muttered a reply.

"I suppose." Nëd patted her shoulder, and Suzy shrugged her hand off, still pouting at the thought of what should have been just between them shared with another. The fact the other was the Son of the Sun mattered little to Suzy.

"Good girl." Nëd said, smiling, and rising off the bed with her pack; as she left she never noticed the blue eyes that stared at her through the window of the inn.

Eventually Nëd made her way to the palace, and entered – a firecat greeted her, leading her to where it thought she ought to be, which was luckily where she needed to be – with the Son of the Sun.

"Ah, Nëd how good to see you, I trust you have agreed to our bargain with Vkandis?" Lorkia asked with a smile, though she must have known the answer.

"I am here, am I not?" Nëd stated, finding her self slightly uncomfortable with the luxurious and rich surroundings, as she had gotten used to being poor for most of her life. Yet there Lorkia sat on a chair that looked to have been made with her in mind, of fabric no one could sell or buy in the black-market for it was highly regarded and guarded well for that reason alone.

The walls were painted with warm reds and soft yellows that reminded one of sand and sun; Nëd felt warm just looking at the pattern. The floor was entirely carpeted – luxurious to feel the fur that ticked her sandaled toes. Still, all of it paled in comparison to the gift the Sun Lord had given her when she had made her decision – to offer proof that she had done as Lorkia asked.

When she set her pack on the ground and slid the painted window out, she saw Lorkia give her a puzzled glance, when she began unwrap it – it turned to awe.

"He gave you this?" She asked softly, standing to come closer – even going so far as to kneel beside it to get a good look at the detail.

"Yes." Nëd answered solemnly feeling oddly protective of what had been given to her by the Sun Lord.

"It is undeniable proof, if you do not mind…may I keep this?" Lorkia asked pleadingly – for a moment Nëd almost said no; then she remembered her resolve to leave it with the Son of the Sun to see it protected.

"While I am away, I shall leave it with you – but I must ask you go to Mama's inn and see my window replaced. Also, my sister-of-heart may have a new way of communicating – though hawks. She is likely even now training one." Nëd stated softly, fingers caressing the painted window one last time before Lorkia moved to take it.

"Thank you, you do not know what a gift you give me. Of course I shall see that they are well taken care of, the hawks sound promising – what a fascinating idea…" Lorkia murmured, the awe in her voice as she looked at the Sun Lord's painted window reassured her that it would be treasured.

"Which of the Sun Lord's Army units shall I join?" Nëd asked then, seeming to gain Lorkia's attention right away.

"Oh, yes – you shall be under General Kiyamvir, a noble of our people who seeks power. You shall act as his assistant – though you are my assassin." Lorkia told her, tone and body language now solemn.

"When shall I begin?" Nëd questioned, fingers tapping on Need's hilt.

"Today – he is on his way here, and I intend to have the two of you meet."


	5. Tale of the Star Eyed and Ma'ar

Against the stone floors of the palace of the Sun Lord, the clink of metal on granite alerted them to another presence nearby. Someone, Nëd was sure, who was not a servant (who wore cloth coverings on their feet) or a noble – who often wore the popular design of sandals. With a glance to Lorkia's calm face, she knew this to be the General Kiyamvir the Son of the Sun had sent for.

Her first impression of the man was one of wary neatness. He wore his dark hair in the military fashion of most of the hair on top and to the sides and back being sheered but for the wrapped ponytail allowed to grow as long as rank permitted. Nëd was grateful she had never worn her hair long, so she would not regret losing what needed to be trimmed.

He had light eyes – and she knew him to be a foreigner, for it was the only way a noble who was not entirely of their people's blood could gain such rank. His skin was as dark as hers, and he held himself in a manner that suggested he knew what he represented and was proud of his heritage.

 _A bold one_ … Nëd couldn't help but think, despite that he was now looking her over as carefully as she had him. She wondered what he thought of her civilian clothing and the very-not civilian sword on her side.

"General Kiyamvir, we are pleased by your presence." Lorkia greeted with a pleasant nod of her head.

"Anything I can do for you, Son of the Sun, is a pleasure." General Kiyamvir assured her with a bow.

"I introduce Lady Nëd, she saved my life – as a reward to her, I would like to place her in the military as your assistant and secretary – would you agree to this kindness?" Lorkia asked, though General Kiyamvir had little choice but to accept.

"Of course, Son of the Sun – it would be my honor." When General Kiyamvir replied it held no tones of stiffness or reluctance. Though Nëd knew the man could not be pleased by the development.

General Kiyamvir turned to her, and she knew it was expected of her to follow him. So she did, her first task was a test to see to her skills which, for the most part, Need led her through. Then began her life, and for weeks it did not change, until she was trusted enough to enter General Kiyamvir's personal chambers to escort officers and companions alike.

Then, one day, she overheard a conversation between General Kiyamvir and someone else – though she _knew_ no one else was within his chambers.

"…of course, I indeed to leave this retched place soon. My people are in position to attack the Son of the Sun. Her little spy has been kept so busy she barely sees me let alone has time to reflect on my movements…" General Kiyamvir assured someone, his tone soothing, though amused.

"…Yes, yes, I've been careful, I know you can not possibly do any of this without me. Our false Son of the Sun is all set up to take over…" General Kiyamvir practically purred the words; he was so pleased with himself.

"Do make sure the Mage of Silence is otherwise occupied, would you? …Yes, those are my orders. I will see you in less then a fortnight." Nëd swiftly fled, going to her rooms where Need lay.

As she was about to reach to touch the sword, a hawk flew through the window. Wide eyes, she watched it – it seemed familiar, with confidence the hawk landed, proudly presenting its neck, which she noticed then had a band of leather wrapped around it, and a metal tube with a bit of leather stuffed in to keep the message in. With shaking hands, Nëd approached Suzy's hawk, taking the bit of leather out and unrolling the message.

_Lorkia says you are in danger – I hope this reaches you in time, she orders you to get out as soon as possible. Be careful, Suzy._

She tensed as she heard footsteps approaching, quickly she scrawled; _Lorkia in danger – too late, love_ _Nëd._ Stuffed the message in the tube, and the bit of leather – all that remained was to release the hawk.

"Do not release that hawk." Kiyamvir ordered, she turned to him – her hand reaching for Need even as he moved his own hand as if to stop her – he did, Need's sword tip dragging –as if in protest - against the floor to his hand. She relased the hawk, its wings whooshing silently, creating a gust of wind that stirred her hair before she felt magic encircle her.

She knew then, Kiyamvir was more then just a noble half blood; he was not of her people - for no General would have magic; that was strictly the work of the Priests.

"Who are you, truly?" Nëd demanded of the man who stood before her – she only hoped Lorkia got the message she had sent with Suzy's hawk. He smiled, sneering at her – he had her trapped, they both knew the only way this would end was with her death.

"Kiyamvir Ma'ar. I killed your predecessor – and now I will kill you with your own sword." Ma'ar sneered, and Nëd glanced to Need, which rested in Ma'ar's hands, she knew the magic trapped her – held her down and kept her still, immobile, she could not duck out of the way.

"Why?" Nëd asked – that was the only question she had, why did he want to kill Need's bearers – why be in her peoples lands at all?

"This sword has a history of killing men who rise in power – but I will see it locked away, so it can do nothing against me." Ma'ar hissed, lip curling into a sneer as he looked down at her.

 _He believes he is better then I am. Better then any woman_. Nëd thought, mind struggling to find a way out of his trap.

"I will kill you – but first, watch as your sword is _silenced_." Steam seemed to escape form the hilt of the sword – the gleaming blue gem that had seemed so alive only the day before was dull – as if it was merely another jewel. Nëd felt as if her heart had been torn from her chest – Need had not only been teacher and mentor – but friend. She knew she would never see Need as she truly was awoken in her life time.

Nëd did not know she had cried out – but she found herself shaking – heaving with sobs.

"Now, _die_." The magical bonds pulsed, changing from cage to torture chamber as blood blossomed on shirt and pants, great gashes torn into her skin – some through her bones; she did not know if the magical attack had missed her organs – it did not matter.

She felt darkness creep to the edges of her vision – what little she could see was veiled in white.

Those metal soled boots trunked away – a ringing reminder of the day that seem ages away – when she had dreamed of this – of dying; and then heard Need's pervious barer killed.

She faded in and out of consciousness only aware that…

That…

She is bleeding. Blood pools around her, seeps into the dry earth, and the muddy blood presses against her nose and mouth, slowly smothering her. It surrounds her on all sides- all of it hers.

She is Nëd.

She is too weak to move her head the little ways needed to not drown in her own blood. There is too much of it- and she knows with a sense of serenity that she is to die here. The only question is which turn death will take- drowning in her muddy blood, or from the savage wounds.

Her salvation is mere inches from her, if she could only reach it. The elegant steel blade forged with pure magic, and the black hilt- a blue stone mounted on the top. It is her only chance, yet she is too weak, too tired, to reach for it.

Too tired of life, tired of death, her lips- half coated in bloody mud, twitch into a grim smile her teeth bared, a smile one wares into a battle they know can't win. Or if they don't care if they do or not, so long as they have done what is needed.

She slows her breathing- meditating, and opening herself to any power that could strengthen her to move those last few inches.

After all…she may be tired, but she will not give up without a fight.

: _Vkandis_ …: Nëd called out mentally, reaching for a connection that had always been there. A firecat appeared – but it was not Sheba – it was larger, grander, then any firecat that she had ever seen.

: _Oh, Nëd…I fear I can do nothing, but what would you have of me?_ : The firecat was Vkandis – of that she was sure.

"Will the Son of the Sun know of Ma'ar?" She asked her speech slurring. Vkandis moved closer, his warmth was something she could feel even in her moment of dying.

: _Yes. She knows, she works even now to move against him – fear not, he will not be within your homeland much longer. She mourns for you; she will tell your family you died a hero_. : Vkandis reassured, nuzzling her hand and meowing pitifully.

"Ma'ar spoke of a second place – a hidden place he could flee to. I want revenge Vkandis, I do not want to die like this – please, don't let me die like this." She pleaded with her God, tears clouding her vision. It seemed the whiteness was all she could see – other then Vkandis.

: _**As you wish – so it shall be.**_ : Vkandis promised gently, faintly she felt his claw dig into her wrist – then she wasn't in her body anymore – could not smell, or see, or sense anything – merely him.

Slowly, she returned to awareness – and it was as if she could sense everything around her again. No – there was more. She felt life and magic pulsing as if it was adrenalin. She looked around – all around her were stars, like the night sky – but it was not as it appeared she knew somehow that was beyond her understanding, it was the lives of everything that had ever been or ever would be. Bellow her feet as silver, like a moonbeam path.

"W-where am I?" She wondered around, looking for someone.

"Forgive me, my Star-Eyed. You asked for mere vengeance, but I could not see you turned into a restless spirit." Vkandis spoke from beside her.

"What am I?" She asked then, for she knew she had to be more then human.

"You are what I am, only, a Goddess." Vkandis told her soothingly – it made sense then. She found herself smiling – if only a little.

"Call me Star-Eyed - Kal'enel. I like that name, it suits me now. What are you to me?" She – who had once been Nëd, asked him.

"An equal – a partner. I am Vkandis; Sun Lord - Rover, Guardian, Hunter and Guide. You are Kal'enel, Maiden, Mother, Warrior, and Crone. Now you and I can watch our people – and you may watch Ma'ar. I will help you find him." Vkandis promised solemnly.

So it was that the two followed Ma'ar – and saw the Mage Storm to come, and placed Need within a building that would survive the Storm. When it was over, they saw that Ma'ar's fortress was beneath the waters of Lake Evendim. And Urtho, who Kal'enel thought of in fondness for his stand against Ma'ar (and the gryphon's for which she thought were lovely) tower became a smaller crater, which atop was black glass.

Kal'enel and Vkandis saw that the Kaled'a'in came to the Plains; and appeared before them – one side was given charge of using magic to restore the damage done to the land through magic; these people became the Tale'edras. The other side who shunned the use of magic except by shamans were to live in the crater and guard the weapons still sealed in Urtho's tower. The clans who accepted the second task became the Shin'a'in, and the Goddess covered the ruined land with grass so that they could live there.

Kal'enel watched over both her people, and Vkandis watched over his – both knowing that one day the two peoples would reunite and become allies.


End file.
